Fevered Musings
by Max the bish deliverer
Summary: What happens when life becomes too much? Or when illness decides to run you ragged.


Musings

By:  Max* the Bishie Deliverer

~*~*~

Disclaimer:  I don't own them.  And there is no more to this fic.  It is a one-shot.  Make of it what you will.  

~*~*~

_Why?  
  
Why am I sitting out here by myself?  
  
Why am I watching the sunset?  
  
Why am I crying?  
  
Why does my heart hurt this way?  
  
Why?  
  
I can answer all of those questions but let me warn you, I will lose my composure over it, I have done that before.  
  
My name is Yaguy Nasuti and I am half French and half Japanese, living in Tokyo, Japan. I am twenty-one, which to some would seem young, since I teach a college cloass in Romantic Literature. I am not young. Compared to the young men that I live with, I'm quite old. And it hurts.  
  
Why am I sitting out here by myself? Why? I know, because I cannot handle being with them anymore. Life is getting to be too much after the fall of Arago and the turning of the Masho. When I think about it, a few years ago, I was a stuck-up teenager with a rich granfather who instructed the class that I do now. Too bad that a few days into the rise of the dynasty, Grandfather died. It was my fault he was there. He was old, but he was quite stubborn. I tried to get him to go home, but he refused to listen. No one ever listened until later when all five of the Troopers banded together. For three years, they lived under my roof, ate my food, kept me company, even paid rent, but there is one important thing that they did. They saved my life.  
  
More then once to be exact. First it was all of them, then Ryo, Seiji, and then the rest of them at interminent times. Time and time again, I thought that I was strong and would attract trouble like clover does bees. I had no idea how weak I was compared to them. To me, knowledge was everything but yet nothing. Nothing to prepare me for the heartache of loneliness.  
  
Why am I watching the sunset? I don't know, because all day I hear this "Nasuti this, and Naste that," and to be frank, I'm getting sick of it. Actually, I am sick, sick of lifef, sick of people, and sick with exhaustion.  
  
Why am I crying? I'm female and I'm upset, you do the math. I look at the house and I hear voices, smooth voices, soft baritones that can lull the unsuspecting person to sleep. Sleep, yeah. I haven't seen that in weeks. Insomnia is a pain but makeup does wonders on the bags beneath my eyes. Every night, my dreams of what, I'm not so sure, but they were good, would eventually fade into these nightmares that literally scare the life out of me. That is life that is slowly leaking out of me. I'm losing a major battle between myself and it's killing me.  
  
Why does my heart hurt this way? Because no one else cares enough to come looking, concern, the guys have nothing to be concerned over. They're healthy, they're fed, they're clothed, they have families with the exception of Jun and Ryo, and they all have lives. But I don't, or at least, I don't now._  
  
~*~*~  
  
Date Seiji stood out on the porch, violet eyes on the figure sitting on the pier. Blond hair scarlet-hued in the sunset, he watched as Nasuti hunched over, shoulders shaking in soft sobs. She was crying.  
  
After being raised around women, he could not stand them in tears. It broke his heart and made him think that it was his fault that they were in that condition. Closing his eyes, he thought back through the last few years and wondered why the tears? "Why," he whispered to no one, jumping when something warm and soft brushed up against his limp hand. "Byakuen, go get Nasuti, it's late."  
  
The tiger looked up at the Trooper and gave a throaty growl. Byakuen bit Seiji's hand, the force light enough so that he would not draw blood, and tugged him toward the pier, letting go as the two were half-way there.  
  
Seiji let a half-smile grace his face as he realized what exactly the beast was doing. "Byakuen, I'll bring her in, you lazy housecat." Seiji then patted the animal's ruff and chuckled, the sudden sound causing the yougn woman on the pier to straighten and turn her head sharply.  
  
"Seiji," her voice carried up to him." What do you want?"  
  
His face was frozen in his usual mask, but mentally, he balked. She never used that tone with him before, so why did she start to now? "It's late."  
  
"So?" She turned back around in an obvious effort to hide the tears that coursed steadily down her face.   
  
Seiji bit his lip to stop any further replies, instead opting for actions rather then words. Making his way onto the short pier, he sat down next to her, only to frown when she noticeably shrunk away. He sighed audibly, now curious as to why fear colored her already agitated aura. Violet eyes reflected the dying sunlight as she watched the figure next to him from the corner of his eye.  
  
She was sick. He knew that much as he listened to her labored breathing and saw the blush on her face. That, and she did not cry well at all. Her face was puffy and streaked, accentuating the dark circles that lined her tired eyes already. "The nights here are cold, you should be inside." He spoke in his usual conservative manner.  
  
"You never answered my first question." Hard, cold, uncharacteristic of the speaker. Now the bearer of Korin was certain, Yaguy Nasuti was apparently beside herself. "What do you want?"  
  
"Preferably for you to listen to me at the moment and drop that tone, it doesn't suit you."  
  
"How the hell would you know?" She reared back, standing up on feet that suddenly felt like they were asleep, but she didn't care, she was on a proverbial roll. And it felt good to see the somewhat dazed look on the normally unfeeling face of Date Seiji. Taking a step backward, so she was moving toward the house, she balled her hands into fists and forced them to her sides, only to scream again. "You don't know me, you don't own me, don't even try to guess what is going on. You don't even give a damn enough to notice it the first time, so why the hell should you start caring now?" Her voice escalated to a screech that made Byakuen growl from up the ways.  
  
Seiji got to his feet also, eyes fading to a stark gray in the light of what was occurring.  
  
The next ten seconds went by like eternity. She was actually screaming at him, the consequential tears flowing like miniature rivers down crimson-hued cheeks. However, as intelligent as Nasuti was, she was not paying the slightest bit of attention to where she was back-stepping, when her foot missed the pier.   
  
A flash of gray and heavy footsteps on aging wood, before a vise clamped around her form and pulled her against her rescuer.  
  
"I think I just had a heart-attack," Seiji whispered as he knelt on the pier, Nasuti pressed up against him, the sobs never ceasing. He had made it before she hit her head on the pier and fell into the lake, however shallow it was, she would possibly drown. Closing his eyes, he stretched out his senses, feeling the warmth radiating from her head and her heart fluttering against his chest. They were both terrified, but his mind was quickly filling with relief as he sighed, a hand at Nasuti's head tucking it underneath his chin.  
  
They remained like that until she fell asleep. Then and only then, did Seiji actually move, sliding his arm underneath her legs and the hand that once cradled her head underneath her neck.  
  
It would have been a slow walk that made even Seiji impatient had Byakuen not intervened. Once he has Nasuti draped over the tiger's back, did he run into the house for the proper preparation.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Seiji shifted his weight on the couch as the weight on his legs cuddled up against him. Once more tucking the mahogany-crowned head under his chin, he let his thoughts wonder.  
  
That night, she had come down with a severe case of pneumonia, one that had left the young professor bed-ridden for two weeks. Those two weeks were not the best in the young Date's life. The other Troopers went as far to avoid him, pending that his quiet temper had its tight hold on his emotions and every time they spoke to him, he would glare and project the torrid emotions to them.  
  
Overwhelming to some, yes, but to him, the boiling emotions made him feel like he had power, he had control.   
  
At least on the couch he did, pulling Nasuti's slumbering form against him possessively.  
  
_I can't pull her any closer unless I wrestle that confounded robe off of her. It's too bulky for a yukata, maybe I'll have one of the others run out and get a lighter one.  
  
Why?  
  
Why am I sitting here like this?  
  
Why am I watching a chick flick by my lonesome? My companion is dating the Sandman, so I'm alone.  
  
Why am I being so possessive?  
  
Why does my heart feel this way?  
  
My name is Date Seiji and I am the only full-blooded blond Japanese living in Tokyo, Japan. I am eighteen, to which some would seem young since I'm dating a college professor in Romantic Literature, but I am not young. Compared to the young woman that I am in love with, she treats me like the mature young man I am, or at least she lets me think that.  
  
Why am I sitting here like this? Why? I know, because she needs me. Life was getting to be too much after the fall of Arago and the turning of the Masho. When I think about it, a few years ago, I was a stuck-up teenager with a powerful yoroi that when combined with four others could easily destroy the world. For three years, I've lived under her roof, ate her food, kept her company, even paid rent, but there is one important thing that I had a hand in. I saved her soul.  
  
You can save someone's life so many times, but you can only save his or her soul once, and then it is yours to heal over and over. She was sick and out of her head with what she presumed to think of as loneliness and that hurt. I thought that I had made my feelings clear to her. Apparently not when she refused to admit that we cared for her, that I cared for her. To some, I was a cold-hearted bastard but to her, I dropped that mask. She made me feel secure enough for that.  
  
No small feat for a guy who lived in a family of women.  
  
Why am I watching this chick flick? I don't know, but the small fact that it put me in this position totally redeems the movie.  
  
Why am I being so possessive? I'm male and I've laid my claim, you do the math. I look at her and I hear her sobs, her wheezing breathes as she struggled for air, the soft voice that has more then once lulled me to sleep after my nightmares. Nightmares, yeah, I haven't seen those in weeks. Maybe because she is healing, in turn healing me. Her pain is my pain, her life is my life, and I just hope she sees it that way.  
  
Why does my heart feel this way? Because I cared enough to go looking for her out of sheer concern, I worry over her often. Call me a worrywat, call me what you want, but I like to think this way.  
  
You're not on this couch in my spot, are you?_  
  
Owari.


End file.
